by Corey Ostman
Jaya grabbed the duffel. “Avo?”
“Ready.”
Chapter 20
When the mover’s door opened, sudden wind and bright light made it impossible to see. But Jaya dashed out anyway, pulling the duffel with her. No one cried out, and she heard no pursuers. As her eyes adjusted, she saw that there were no waiting aposti to dodge, no outpost. Just the rolling hills, the smell of grass on the prairie wind. Avo was not next to her. She turned and saw that he had paused just outside the mover, looking around with a puzzled expression.
Where were they? She surveyed the horizon, and belatedly recognized an escarpment in the distance—it was known locally as The Fallen Signpost, an odd-shaped outcrop that pointed the way to the nearby village of Hecla.
Hecla?
“We’re in Cloister 11!” she shouted, a feeling deep in her belly that wanted the world to know, the universe to hear.
“Correct,” Bellows said, emerging from the other side of the mover. He rubbed the left side of his face, avoiding the skin around his eye, which was shiny and dark.
He didn’t have his weapon out, but Jaya gripped her duffel nonetheless.
“Why?” she demanded.
His gaze had drifted to her feet. “Your boot’s back in Wheatland, I think.”
Avo stepped closer, squinting up at Bellows.
“So you decided to believe Jaya?” he said.
“Ha!” Bellows boomed. “About a clandestine delivery? Not in the least. The minute I saw Grace’s weapon, I was sure you were both guilty.” He shrugged. “But I’m cloisterfolk. When I saw Grace’s gear, I put a call to Dan Donner.”
“So he explained?” Jaya ventured.
“Not enough,” Bellows said, frowning at them. “He told me about the PodPooch, that it belongs to Grace.” He shook his head. “Why she’d ship a robotic dog home is beyond me. With her weapon, her ptenda? Just asking for trouble.”
Bellows nodded at the duffel. “You gonna tell me why Grace has gone dark? Is she hiding out in the city? With the aposti involved—this isn’t about AIs, is it?”
“We just have to get to Donner Ranch,” said Jaya.
Bellows sighed. “Fine. Probably better I don’t know. I’m in enough trouble as it is. Grace owes me one.”
“Trouble? You mean for taking us here?” she said.
Avo stepped toward Bellows. “You have another bang bulb like you used at Friend Park?”
Bellows nodded. “What do you have in mind, firebug?”
Avo pointed at the mover.
Bellows looked from Avo to the mover, then smiled. “Ah, gotcha. You two might want to step back.”
He unclipped something small, white, and round from his belt and tossed it inside the passenger hold. He hit the release plate on the side of the mover and the hatch closed.
“It’s a moderate charge,” he said, “but it should—”
A deep rumble shook the mover, followed by a hiss and groaning from the armored plates. The opaque glass squeaked as spiderlike fissures appeared.
“Should do the trick,” he said, stepping up to the mover and pressing the door release. The warped hatch rose a meter, then clanked to a stop.
“Now you are only guilty of allowing two prisoners to escape. You put up a fight, but you were hit in the face and they got away,” Avo said.
“Is the mover even drivable?” Jaya asked.
Bellows laughed. “Maybe, but I’ll push it back to Wheatland if I have to.”
Avo tugged at Jaya’s hand. “We should go.”
“Wait!” Bellows said. “You’re gonna need these.”
He rummaged around in his hip pocket and produced two necklaces. “Here. Wear them outside your clothing.”
Jaya took the necklace. It was a simple loop of metarm with a dangling brass disc. On the disc was a lowercase ‘d’ with the vertical bar intersected by two horizontal dashes.
“Keep ‘em on at all times. Shows you’re sponsored by Donner Ranch.”
Jaya nodded. “We know the custom.”
“Put on somethin’ other than that, too,” said Nick, pointing to Jaya’s fire-damaged stats shirt. “It’ll freak out the locals. And you should probably keep your ptendas in your pockets. You can put ‘em on once you reach the ranch, but out here and especially in the village, folks are strict. You can’t be whipping out the ptenda to pay.”
“We have compstate chits,” Jaya said, digging through her pack for a new shirt.
“You know the way to Donner Ranch?”
Jaya shook her head. “But I know Hecla. I can ask.”
“Hmph. Best not to look like a greenhorn. Not with aposti around. Just walk straight through town to the other end. Nod if folks say hi, but don’t stop. You’ll see a dirt road heading west. Follow that.”
Jaya watched him point into the distance, feeling a fondness that was rooted in her other mind. Grace liked him, trusted him. And after what he’d just done, she’d gotten a sense of why. Jaya wished she’d had time to get to know him better. But she never would, would she?
She stepped forward and hugged him.
“What’s that for?” he said, when they’d pulled apart.
“You,” she said. “Grace likes you.”
“Oh?” said Bellows. “What else did she say?”
“Jaya?” asked Avo, a line of concern on his forehead.
“She said—Ouch!” She glanced at her left foot, bare in the grass. She’d caught the edge of a rock.
“They’ve got boots in the village. I mean boot.” He laughed, ground crunching under his feet as he walked to the other side of the mover. “Tell Dan that he owes me a steak!”
The hatch closed and the mover thrummed to life. The busted passenger hatch rattled as the mover rolled forward. Jaya watched it start down a hill toward Wheatland.
Avo moved next to her, placing his right boot beneath her bare foot, cushioning her from the gravel on the road.
“Three boots are better than one, eh?” she smiled. “You ready?”
“I should ask you that. What did you mean by Grace liking him?”
“Grace has known Bellows since they were kids. And I feel the same way and it makes me feel…” She trailed off as she scanned the land looking for an answer. “Unsure of who I am.”
“You said Grace likes, Grace knows. Are you sure you cannot find her?”
Jaya looked away. “I’m sure.”
The first steps were awkward, but between the two of them they developed a rhythm. They kept to where the grass grew thicker to avoid rocks. The grass scratched at her skin. She thought about an advertisement she’d seen once, a young girl running barefoot through the prairie. Yeah, right.
The Fallen Signpost stretched before them, its white stone in sharp contrast to the green-brown of the prairie. They followed its line down as the prairie dipped and rolled before them, tall grasses whispering their welcome, urged on by the gentle wind. It was beautiful. Jaya felt ecstatic, like she could walk on the breeze itself. If she were only to have a few more days of this life, she was glad to spend one of them out here. Home.
As they reached the top of a hillock, her heart began to race. Less than a kilometer away sat the village of Hecla, the town nearest Donner Ranch. Its brown, weatherworn buildings clustered around a creek like a herd of thirsty cattle.
They descended the hill. From a distance, the village appeared deserted, but as they got closer, she saw pockets of busy people. Some of them had sidearms. Jaya’s fingers brushed against the brass disc at her chest. While she’d lived her whole life on the prairie, neither she nor Avo were cloisterfolk. In such a small town, everyone else would know that too.
They kept to the center of the main road. Folks didn’t ignore them, but they did little other than look at their discs and nod. Her foot got some notice as they passed a makeshift saloon, where a couple of carousing cowboys shouted out to her, drink blurring their talk. She ignored them. The saloon was constructed from a derelict belt cruiser, which clearly predated t
he Cloister Compromise. It had a yellow tarp hanging above its missing cargo hatch. After the saloon, they passed a rammed earth mercantile exchange, two stables, and what looked like an ancient schoolhouse. All made of basic prefab wood. No bootmaker.
About halfway through town, an elderly woman ambled toward them, her back hunched beneath a giant fringed shawl. Avo tugged Jaya to move out of the way, but the woman waved them over.
“My, but ain’t you a cute lad!” She squinted at him, then turned to Jaya. “And where are ye travelin’ to on three legs, young missy?” The woman slowly raised her head, her sparkling blue eyes a contrast to her leathery face. “You lose yer boot to the town mutt?”
“No, ma’am. We’re heading to Donner Ranch,” Jaya said.
“Hmm, Donner Ranch.” The woman rubbed her stubbly chin. “Strange folk about, ‘cause of the cattle roundup.” She peeked at Jaya’s foot, comfortably resting on Avo’s boot.
Jaya took the cue. “Where can I buy a new pair of boots, ma’am?” she asked.
“Jake’s is what ye be wantin’,” the woman said, motioning to the northwest. “Down at the end of Barker’s Alley.” Her eyes locked on Jaya again, then she reached over and ruffled Avo’s hair. He endured it.
“Just be careful of strangers,” she mumbled and moved off.
They walked to the alley the old woman had indicated. At the end of the narrow lane sat a three-story building sheathed in metarm, another hint at pre-cloister times. A large JAKE’S LEATHER GOODS sign hung below the second-floor balcony, its hand-forged chains creaking.
The door was manual. Jaya grabbed the brass knob and turned, pushing it open. Avo followed close behind her, but she didn’t need his shoe now. The floor was wooden and smooth.
At first, all she saw were saddles: some hanging from the ceiling, others stacked neatly in rows along the floor. There were a few customers, most of them cowboys, and all of them were focused on the saddles.
“Boots,” said Avo, pointing to a wall of shelves deeper inside the store. Jaya hobbled forward, passing by a long counter. A teenager on the other side of the counter leaned over and looked at her foot.
“What got your boot?” said the kid.
“Dog,” said Jaya, thinking of the old woman.
The kid laughed. “You gonna be mostly ridin’?”
Jaya shook her head. “No, hiking.”
“Well there’s your problem. Dogs won’t bother you much on a horse.” He glanced at her boot. “Don’t know that I can match it, but…” He shuffled through the inventory.
“That’s ok, I’ll buy a new pair,” she offered. “Maybe I will ride some. Got any with spurs?”
“Hoo! You’re makin’ it easy.” He reached up and pulled out a pair of dark brown boots with matching laces and a lighter tongue. “These look your size.”
“Got any black ones?” she asked.
Two more boots joined the first pair. Jaya sat on the floor and tugged one of the black ones on. Nice fit, and the shiny spurs weren’t too big. The teen had good eyes. She laced up her new boot, and replaced the one on her right. Then she hung the old boot on her harness. She was digging out compstate chits when she caught Avo’s expression.
Too fast, he said in her dermal dot. Jaya would have…
He trailed off, but Jaya knew what he was about to say. Jaya loved picking out clothes, lingering over her options. She looked down at the black boots. They looked fine. She liked their red laces. Did that mean she wasn’t Jaya? Could she suddenly stop being herself but not know it? She probed her thoughts, sure that she felt like herself, sure that she knew the places where Grace began and she ended. Or did she?
“Whatcha gonna do with the old spare boot?” the teen asked.
Jaya smiled, though she felt sick inside. “I’ll probably come across a dog I need to bribe. How much?”
“Hundred fifty.”
Under normal circumstances she’d haggle. It was the prairie way, and the teen probably expected it. But all Jaya wanted to do was get out of there.
“Are you sure you do not need anything else—” Avo began.
“Deal,” she interrupted, laying down three fifties.
The teen grinned and accepted the chits. “Thank you, and please come back!”
Jaya took Avo’s hand. “Let’s go.”
He stayed in place, a crinkle in his brow, then let her draw him forward.
As they left the store, he tugged at her and pointed down the street.
“You want something to eat?” he asked.
“The busted cruiser? Let’s just get to the ranch. I’m sure they’ll have food.”
“You sure? It reminds me of the place you used to take me to up in the borderlands—the one with the old red ship—what was it called?”
“I can’t remember,” Jaya said, not trusting her memory enough to answer him.
Before long they were out of town, heading west. Brown grass dominated the view. On the left side of the road, a barbed wire fence meandered closer and closer until it paralleled them. After another kilometer, a similar fence on the right approached. And then they saw cattle: hundreds of black coats shimmering in the sun. Some cowboys driving cattle from a treeline, whistling on their horses. It felt like home. Or did it? Was it just Grace? Jaya had little to do with cattle specifically, but the sight was ubiquitous to both of them.
“Who is that?” Avo asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“Who?”
“At your two o’clock,” he said.
She looked up. Someone rode a horse less than a kilometer away, and unlike the cattle and the other ranch hands, this individual slowly trotted west, matching their speed as they hiked down the road.
“A sentinel, maybe,” she said. “Or just somebody headed back to the ranch house.”
The ranch house. She had Grace’s memories of it, of the people inside. She imagined handing over the duffel with Tim in it. Brought through perils, like a hero. It was the simple part of the transaction, but how would they react to her? They already knew about the facial operation and the gray grafty. Would they treat her like a ghost, a robot, some kind of delivery device?
How many hours did she have left?
“You are quiet,” Avo said. His voice was reproachful, and his walk was slow. He was dragging his feet.
“So are you.”
“I am worried about what will happen when we get there.”
“I know,” Jaya whispered.
Avonaco’s gaze shifted, unfocused somewhere on the horizon.
“The first thing they’ll want to do is remove the grafty.” He’d slipped into contractions, as he often did he when he was upset. She reached out and squeezed his hand. “And I won’t get to say goodbye, because they’ll be more interested in restoring Grace than worrying about you or me.” He breathed in and out, shallowly. “So goodb—” The last word caught in his throat.
Jaya tugged him closer.
“It’s ok to die,” she said. “Especially when your life has meant something. And I— I didn’t mind dying to make sure you stayed safe.”
“We could just leave the duffel here, or maybe at the entrance. They’d be sure to find it.”
Jaya looked in the direction of the sentinel she’d seen, but he was gone: maybe on the other side of a hill, or maybe he’d ridden back to the ranch house.
“We could hike back to the borderlands, just you and me,” he offered. His eyes were wide and brown and wet. She could see herself reflected in his pupils.
“This isn’t right,” she said. “This is Grace’s body, Grace’s mind. And you know that I have—I have things missing.” She swallowed back a sob. She was afraid, but she couldn’t admit it to him. “We’ll be ok, Avo.”
“No,” he said, pulling his hand from hers. “You won’t be ok. You’ll be dead.”
The road climbed and crested a hill. She could hear her heart in her ears as they walked. Just a hundred meters ahead rose a rusty metal archway crowned with the same ‘d’ logo on their brass
discs. A kilometer beyond the gate, sitting at the top of a hill, was a low ranch house with a large barn on its left and a stable to its right.
She reached for Avo’s hand again, but no sooner had she grasped it than he pulled it away from her. She took a few steps beneath the gate and turned.
“Avo, please come with me. I can’t do this without you.”
“No,” he said. “I won’t go.”
Chapter 21
Jaya saw Avo’s body stiffen before she heard the muffled thud of hooves in the grass. It was a man on a horse, riding up the hill, over the grass beyond the fence that lined the road. The sentinel.
He pulled back on the reins as he neared the fence. His mare stopped and began to nibble on the brown grass. Her coat and mane were a deep glossy gold, she had a broad white line down the nose. The man was less remarkable: he was dressed in a faded denim jacket and pants. His brown hat might have been white at some point, but it’d seen too much dust and sweat. His tan face was covered in dark brown stubble along the jawline, skin creased from years of prairie sun.
He dipped his head and smiled.
“You two headin’ to the house?”
“Yes,” Jaya said, tapping the brass disc on her chest. She belatedly saw his medallion, tied to a belt loop.
“I’d be happy to escort the two of you in,” he said.
Avo slid behind her. It was all for show, mimicking a bashful child. She knew he’d already gotten a close look at the cowboy, stored details about him.
“No, that won’t be necessary,” Jaya said. “You must be tired after a hard day’s work.”
“You sure?” he asked.
Jaya nodded.
“Well, I am tired, ma’am.” He looked toward the house. “But I’ll let ‘em know you’re coming. What’s your name?”
“Jaya. And thanks,” she said.
His boots nudged the horse’s flank and he pulled the reins. Jaya exhaled as the man galloped west, toward the homestead.
“I do not like him,” Avo said after the cowboy was well out of earshot. His tears were gone, his mouth horizontal and grim. “Why did you give him your name?”